


Damage Control

by basteel-starchild (bastet_goddess)



Category: Club Penguin
Genre: Badass, Fluff, Forehead Kisses, Gen, M/M, Morning Kisses, Sleepy Kisses, Surprise Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:53:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23361265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bastet_goddess/pseuds/basteel-starchild
Summary: Because he had understood the implications of her statement. Prior to all this, the Director had emailed every major news network and requested that they not run any stories about the EPF while they were busy with internal repairs. With every month that passed, the media had grown antsy. Four months of unanswered questions had soured their already bad impression with them. Playing nice with the press after keeping them waiting would be near impossible at this point. There wouldn't be kindness. They would be brutal, persistent, demanding. A press conference would be similar to walking into the lion's den.Rookie wasn't just being asked to issue a statement. He was also being asked to do damage control.
Relationships: Jet Pack Guy/Rookie (Club Penguin)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	Damage Control

**Author's Note:**

> I take challenges badly. 
> 
> But then again, I like a challenge. 
> 
> For Glitter, who challenged me to write something akin to responsible Rookie. 
> 
> And Happy? Good fucking luck handling this monster. 
> 
> No beta. We die like men.

Rookie found himself wide awake that morning as soon as he blinked his eyes open, like his body skipped the stages of morning grogginess and demanded that he get up already and go to work. Maybe he could blame the sun that was creeping into the room, or the snores of Guy against his cheek, but nothing seemed to justify his newfound energy. His body hummed with anticipation, adrenaline flooding his system as he stared up at the ceiling and wondered how to calm his heart at this hour.

It wasn't because of a nightmare. He's been having less and less of that lately. Most of his dreams nowadays were of harmless things, like running around trying to roundup puffles at the back of the pet shop, or exploring the dimension he's called the Box Dimension. The last time he had a nightmare was about two weeks ago, and that was just about being chased by clowns around the agency. 

This onset of adrenaline was because of a different thing for sure. Today was a big day, after all. It's a day the agency anticipated since Operation: Blackout, when they had to do the one thing they've been dreading to tick off of the agency's general to-do list: facing the press and officially announcing their existence as a clandestine agency.

And Rookie was the star of that show, standing front and center.

A few days after his birthday, the Director summoned him to her office, requesting him to personally come due to the sensitivity of what she had to say. Rookie was confused then, a little worried, but obedient nonetheless as he stepped out of HQ and made his way to her personal office, which was her home. It was a shock to see her once more in person, to be able to study the deep lines under her eyes and the streaks of white beginning to appear in her hair. Her office was a mess, EPF and CPT papers meshed together, coffee mugs strewn about. Her puffles looked just as restless as she was. 

"Rookie," She had greeted him that day, voice thick with exhaustion as she set her glasses down, rubbing the bridge of her nose with a tight frown. He had never seen her like this, not this bone tired, and he wondered if that was why she hardly ever appeared to the other Leads in person. "I'm sorry, but I can't hold the media off for much longer."

At the time, Rookie had expected it. After all, it had been 4 months since their cover was blown by Herbert. He was surprised Arctic could even keep her own journalists and many others from pursuing any stories concerning the agency. He supposed they had it coming, and that it was long overdue, but it didn't beat the fact that he was worried about what opening that can of worms would mean for them.

Because he had understood the implications of her statement. Prior to all this, the Director had emailed every major news network and requested that they not run any stories about the EPF while they were busy with internal repairs. With every month that passed, the media had grown antsy. Four months of unanswered questions had soured their already bad impression with them. Playing nice with the press after keeping them waiting would be near impossible at this point. There wouldn't be kindness. They would be brutal, persistent, demanding. A press conference would be similar to walking into the lion's den. 

Rookie wasn't just being asked to issue a statement. He was also being asked to do damage control.

"I can think up a strategy in two weeks." He had said that day, standing in her office, despite having no idea how he can come up with something good enough in that short span of time. Thinking of the logistics alone would be a nightmare for him, what more the content of his speech? He wasn't ready to be devoured by the press just yet. 

"I believe you can do it." Arctic had said before waving her hand, turning back to her paperwork with a tired look in her eyes. He had wanted to ask her then if she was alright, but he didn't think he should waste anymore of her time. Rookie couldn't even begin to imagine what the weight felt like on her shoulders. He felt sorry for her. "Keep me posted. You can go." 

"Hey," Rookie nearly jumped out of bed as he recalled where he was as Guy snaked his arms around his torso, a wet kiss pressed against the crook of his chin as the man sighed breathily. "The day hasn't even started and you're already frowning."

Rookie turned his head to regard him. They've managed to reach a compromise with their sleeping arrangements after he decided to move in with Guy. To help Guy get his body clock back to a decent rhythm, he would have to be in bed for as long as Rookie had been. To help Rookie with his nightmares, Guy had to keep him wrapped around his arms all night. It was a fair arrangement, a perfectly good one, too. And Rookie didn't regret it. 

It came with the added bonus of a groggy morning Guy, so who would pass up that opportunity? It was good to see him act human, to see him sleepy and vulnerable and not as the eagle-eyed man in the sky. He brushed an answering kiss above Guy's eyebrow. "That's funny of you to say given you're the grumpier one."

"Touché." Guy's laughter was husky with sleep as he shifted and laid his head closer to Rookie's chest, squeezing him a little tighter. "Are you thinking about today?"

Rookie tilted his head, "Hm?"

"Are you thinking about today, Rook?" There was a tiny frown on Guy's face as he lifted his head, squinting at Rookie. It was still an amusing sight to see him without his sunglasses, when he got to look at those brown eyes turn into molten lava under the morning sunlight. It was refreshing. A reminder that his boyfriend wasn't just a no nonsense agent. 

Guy had to repeat the question slowly for him to remember that it was being asked. "Oh! Yeah, yeah I've been thinking about it a lot."

"You're gonna do fine." Guy warbled and leaned forward to press a slow, lazy kiss on his lips. Rookie tilted his head a little to keep him there as he continued to speak, words warbled against his own lips. "You're the expert with words around here."

"I think that title belongs to Arctic, not me." Rookie giggled as he pulled away slowly, pulling back when Guy frowned and inched a little closer to press his lips onto him again. He bit back a louder laugh and raised a hand to card it through Guy's hair. "I'm just the middleman."

"A damn pretty middleman, at that." Guy gruffed, a telltale grin on his lips, before he surged forward, and that was that. 

* * *

For this press conference, the aboveground had to be refurbished to make room for chairs, the platform, and the podium. Most of the cleanup had already been accomplished in the past months, debris cleared, and the design plans for a new look were still undergoing final approval before they could be done. Guy tilted his head back to look at the gaping hole that was the ceiling, a tarp hastily thrown over it the other day, wondering if it was enough to count as "high security".

Because security right now had to be tight. They were having journalists from all over the Island flocking to get the story fresh from the horse's mouth. Surely their back channels were buzzing with anticipation for what the EPF had to say to explain themselves. There was no room for error for this day. They just can't have an incident happen in broad daylight, otherwise all hell would break loose. 

Guy kept looking at the tarp overhead and wondered if it would be necessary to do a flyby mission while the conference was going on. He'd want to see how Rookie would do during the press conference, but he also knew that he had to be the man in the sky that could get a bird's eye view of any incoming threats. He would hate if anything happened to his partner or the journalists while this event happened. He couldn't bear the thought of it.

"If you're wondering about whether or not you should be up there during the conference, don't bother." Guy turned his head to see Rogue, the newest of the Leads, walking towards him. The former Tactical analyst turned Lead looked rather relaxed, almost casual despite the stresses of the day. "Gary's down there testing his new radar defense system, remember? He'll warn us if anything's approaching 10 minutes before it hits."

He did recall Gary mentioning such a few days ago, but he would rather not take his chances. This was a  _ huge  _ event, the biggest one of the agency following Operation: Blackout. An impression had to be made. If he had to call for all hands on deck, he would willingly do it, even if it means he wouldn't be there to watch his Rookie do what he did best personally. 

"I'm just making sure we have all bases covered for this." Guy said as she finally stopped next to him, folding her hands behind her back as she inspected the final checks and preparations. Agents around them bustled to arrange the room to the best of their abilities, making sure nothing was out of place. They paid no mind to the Leads who were standing in the corner. "I can't risk underestimating the severity of this press conference."

She smirked, "Do you want me to give you the analysis just like old times?" 

"Run me through them." He waved his hand as he turned, marching to the table set up at the corner of the room where his jet pack laid. Guy was in the middle of checking it to make sure that nothing was damaged should he need to take to the skies. His toolbox was also placed there for the time being for when he had to make repairs. As he stood over his jet pack, he tried to figure out what to check first. 

"Given our profile on Herbert, he would see no point in trying to cause a scene in front of journalists, unless he wanted to attack their right for free speech." Rogue said behind him as he picked up the screwdriver and started tightening the screws inside, nodding along as she spoke. "No underground activity has indicated a possible attack. The chances of anything happening today is extremely low, unless we count the bloodbath that is this conference." 

Guy shot her a dry look as she raised both hands in surrender, stepping farther away from him with a click of her tongue. "I know, the sarcasm was unnecessary."

"They won't do anything to Rookie." Guy said decisively, more of a reassurance to himself than to her. He had a tight frown on his face as he looked over her shoulder and at the podium that was being placed on the platform. There he knew Rookie would introduce himself as the public relations officer, the friendly face of the agency. He just hoped it would be enough. "They won't tear him apart where he's standing." 

Rogue followed his gaze and sighed upon looking at the podium, her own frown etched deep on her face as she muttered. "They're hounds, Guy.  _ Hounds _ ."

* * *

Some time ago, long before she disappeared to go wherever she went, he remembered Dot saying that he and Guy had the riskiest positions compared to the rest of the Leads. 

She had this way of explaining it that Rookie couldn't remember word for word, but he understood its essence: Guy was a tactical man, with the ability to soar up to the skies at unparalleled speeds. If he wanted someone taken down, he had the manpower and the resources to do so, making him a target for anyone with beef against him. 

Rookie, meanwhile, carried public relations on his shoulders. He was the friendly face and voice of the agency, the bright persona the EPF wanted to show the Island. The press didn't know it, but he was the one who fed them every official statement that wasn't written by the Director. He was perhaps the most recognizable agent out of all of them, and therefore at the biggest risk of being captured. 

So he got that part. He and Guy fought the same fight on different fields. Think of it like chess, for example: he was the rook and Guy was the knight. Knights can leap over obstacles and protect those who need protecting by simply standing in wait for any who dare to harm his charge. Rooks, meanwhile, kept things in line, protected the fort, so to speak, by keeping a protective barrier between them and the enemy. 

Staring over the plethora of journalists before him made Rookie decide that this was his open game and he was set to move.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, reaching over to check if his earpiece was still in place. The Director requested he put one on so she can provide him with any information should anyone in the press suddenly throw a curveball. The earpiece also allowed him to listen to any incoming information from the agents stationed around Headquarters, in case anything happened and he had to usher everyone to safety. 

He was worried, but he could do this. All he had to do was breathe and read the speech and follow through with the plan. Rookie had this all under control. He believed it. 

Opening his eyes, he marched up to the podium as the cameras started flashing around him, the quiet murmur of the press lulling to nothing as he stood before the podium. He wore his lucky underpants today, his lucky shirt, his lucky everything. He had to remove his usual sunglasses for this, since speaking to them while wearing them wasn't exactly ethical. 

He took a deep breath.  _ Here goes nothing _ .

"Hi! You can call me Rookie, and I'm the public relations officer of the EPF." He began, the words spilling out cheerfully as he slipped into the persona of Rookie, cheerful spokesperson of the agency. The flashes of the camera were blinding as he fought hard not to squint. "Thank you for your patience. The cat's been out of the bag for some time now, and we know you've all been waiting for answers, but we haven't given you them because we've been busy fixing ourselves. But I guess you can figure that part out yourself. The ceiling's… well, it's not really a ceiling now, is it?" 

Rookie watched as several laughed at his little joke while others looked up above them, sparing them a moment as he too looked up to see it. The tarp waved a little with the wind blowing on it, sunlight filtering through along with the spring air. He turned back to the people before him. 

"We're doing okay, in the middle of some good old spring cleaning. A lot has happened since the operation we call Operation: Blackout, and I'll get to that eventually, but I think it would be better to introduce ourselves first, don't you think?"

"You're doing great, Rookie." He heard the Director murmur into his earpiece, and took that as a sign to continue.

"So let me say again, hello! We are the Elite Protection Force. We keep our eyes and ears peeled so that you can live your lives on the Island peacefully. We investigate crimes and protect the island from criminals. We are the people who brought down Herbert P. Bear a few months ago." Rookie cleared his throat and grinned, trying to scan the faces around the room one by one, "And we are here to help." 

His eyes were drifting to the back of the room when he spotted Guy and Rogue, who were both standing at the far corner. He didn't expect either of them to be present physically, as he thought the both of them would be out and about making sure that no one attacked them while the conference was going on. Rogue looked visibly pleased with him, going by the small grin on her face and the quick thumbs up she threw at him once they locked eyes. 

Guy, however, had a gaze that Rookie can only describe as  _ intense.  _ He was watching Rookie intently with rapt attention, a look of concentration on his face, fully absorbed in the speech. He had ditched his jet pack to avoid being recognizable. Rookie suddenly felt his mouth dry as they locked eyes (Oh, God, he also wasn't wearing his sunglasses), his thoughts dwindling down to nothing as they stared.

Quickly catching himself, Rookie recovered before he could get too lost in Guy's powerful gaze. "As I was saying-" 

* * *

Guy could say a lot about what he was watching right now. 

For one, he was  _ engrossed _ . It was such a rare treat for him to be around when his Rookie was playing up his position as Communications Lead and Public Relations officer of the EPF. From where he stood, he can feel the waves of calm and cool confidence radiating out of him, a beacon of energy that called forward attention. He looked taller on that podium, a proud man before the hounding media, and the vision of it just made Guy's heart swell with pride. 

Because god _ damn _ , look at that, that's his partner. 

He couldn't help it if he couldn't take his eyes off of Rookie, not for one second, because he wanted to see this. He wanted to memorize this look on him and use it to remind himself that his partner was as confident, as powerful, as electric a Lead as he was. God, this man was practically his equal. He can't be blamed if he was sighing, "God, he's wonderful at this."

Beside him, Rogue sounded amused, "You know, you'd look just like that before you take off."

Guy flicked his eyes to her briefly to give her a puzzled look before turning back to Rookie, who was discussing the EPF's rebuilding initiatives and future conferences. "What do you mean?"

"You know, comfortable. In control." He could see her shrug from the corner of his eyes as she continued, "You're in your element when you're up in the skies. He is in his element when he's up on that podium."

That made sense. Rookie looked wonderful where he stood, practically glowing, commanding the attention of everyone in the room with his words. Somehow he knew how to use his cheerful demeanor for the betterment of the agency, and for that Guy was in awe. It wasn't a common occurrence that other agencies or companies would have cheerful spokespersons. Rookie stepped up to make that difference known.

And he looked so radiant while doing it. Guy couldn't believe it. He's never seen the man look so comfortable despite the odds of him being questioned severely by the press. He looked so composed and sure of himself, unflappable, traits he never usually saw whenever Rookie fumbled on the field. 

He found it wonderful.

Rookie eventually fell silent as he wrapped up the prepared speech, shuffling to the side to take the bottled water an agent was holding up to him. Guy watched as he took it, flashing her a grateful smile, before unscrewing the cap and taking a long drink from it. He waited until Rookie had his fill, returned the bottle to the agent, then shuffled back to the podium to speak once more. 

"The floor's open for questions."

And just like that, like a well timed machine, the room was alive with activity. Members of the press jumped from their seats as they raised their hands and questions, some leaning forward to get better pictures of Rookie. Several others started making their way closer to the front of the crowd, chairs forgotten and pushed away just so they could get the man's attention. 

Guy felt a familiar adrenaline rush surge through his veins as turned to Rogue, whose face was twisted with worry, "Oh, here we go." 

* * *

The key to surviving press conferences was to make sure they don't smell your fear. It sounded like such a strange thing to say, since the press weren't predators or anything, but it was true.

Rookie believed in the press, he really did. They were the only ones who'd tell the public of the agency's secret accomplishments when they cannot tell the world about it. They were storytellers, paragons of truth, the protectors of free speech. He couldn't blame them for doing their job. They had to do it thoroughly. If it meant having to be aggressive and persistent, then so be it.

But that didn't change the fact that Rookie was terrified by their persistence.

So he had to recall: don't show them that he's afraid. That would only make them prod for more questions, make them push his buttons a little further. He can't let them know he was intimidated otherwise it would be game over for him. He had to keep focus, pay attention, and think quickly on his feet.

"Can you tell us anything else about Operation: Blackout?"

"How many stations do you have across the Island and servers?"

"Does this mean you're listening in to our calls?"

To calm himself, he had to pull himself together. Rookie had to pull up all his cards and hold them close to his chest, and then keep them there. He tried to think of calm thoughts, something to keep him grounded. In control. He was in control of the press conference. They came here to listen to what he had to say, and they will keep listening until their time here was up.

"Who exactly is your leader?"

"Do you directly report to the Moderators or are you under some kind of oversight council?"

He locked eyes with Guy, who was still at the back of the room. His gaze was steady, serious, just the slightest bit hopeful. Guy knew what to do in these stressful situations. He was the calm one, confident, suave and unflappable. All he had to do right now was channel that energy, hone it to make it his, and then use it to power through the rest of this conference. There wasn't much time left on the clock, exactly. He and Arctic made sure there wouldn't be too much time for questions. 

"Rookie! Wasn't your identity and those of others leaked during the dictatorship?"

"Who asked that question?" The questions lulled when he finally spoke, searching the room for the one person who said that. Slowly, he caught the eye of a young journalist, who held up her recorder in the air, her mouth pulled to a straight line. He stepped closer, "Why, yes, my identity and that of other leaders was leaked to the press during the dictatorship."

"What do you have to say about that breach of information?" Another member of the press, a much older and gruffer looking gentleman asked. He held a notepad in one hand and a pencil in another, his gaze steely on Rookie's.

"Well first off, it was bad. We didn't really anticipate that happening." He started. In truth, the agency was distraught about the leaking of information regarding their Leads, especially since now their lives were at risk. There were multiple meetings spent with them arguing over whether or not to adapt better security measures for themselves, but the press didn't need to know that yet. "But at least you know who's running this place, right? I'd call that a plus for transparency."

Another, much older journalist frowned, "But we don't know the identity of your Director."

"They're a secretive person." That was the truth, anyway. He didn't have the gall to tell him that their boss was also the leading woman in the Island's journalism field. "Protocols require them to remain in the shadows. I'm sorry I can't say much." 

A hand was raised, "Why are you called Rookie despite your high rank within the agency?"

"It's a nickname that stuck, honestly." Rookie shrugged innocently. It was true, anyway, it was a nickname that struck. He fumbled a lot on missions when he was younger that the Leads would call him by that novice title, only out of jest. He found it endearing. "Everyone calls me that so I thought you guys would want to call me that too." 

"Truthfully, sir, it's a rather poor codename."

"I don't mind that it sounds like one." Rookie looked at the woman who asked him the question, gaze measured without revealing a thing. He's heard of that several times and has been tempted to change it, if not for the fact that it was given to him by someone else and it reminded him of far more peaceful times. "I like it. It reminds me of my friends who laugh with me and at me. It reminds me of happiness."

There was a profound silence as they absorbed that response, and Rookie took that as a success. The Director seemed to be quiet in his ear now, and he didn't mind it. 

One more hand shot up, "If you protect us, who protects you?" 

He couldn't help but smile. It was not an expected question. Rookie turned his gaze to the pair who were still watching him, his smile widening as he gave them a small, subtle nod. He turned back to the room to scan their faces one more time before responding. 

"We have each other." That was the simplest answer. Only they understood the hardships of working under a clandestine agency. They were the only people who could understand the stress and sacrifices they had to commit in the name of protection and safety. There was no need to "We rely on each other to make sure no one gets left behind. We're family like that."

Silence came. Rookie checked the time on his watch and saw that there was no more time left. Slowly, he picked up the papers on the podium surface, a little smug with himself as the room once more murmured into awareness of what was going on. 

"I think that will be all." 

* * *

There were a lot of things Guy would say about how he felt after realizing what Rookie was doing. 

It was a ridiculously good strategy. He was surprised it even worked, anyway. He remembered Rookie briefing them about how the press conference would go: 12 minutes of reciting the prepared speech he and Arctic have worked on, 8 minutes for questions, with a total of 20 minutes. For Guy, that kind of time was short compared to how much he would spend high up in the air in a day, but he knew that it was long in terms of conferences. 

It was obvious that the press would be vicious. Rookie must have accounted for it. To eat away most of their questions, he made sure that almost all possible questions could be answered by his speech, which took up most of the time. The questions that remained were obviously questions Rookie could not answer for several reasons, with the most obvious one being confidentiality. 

His partner pulled off wasting time by pretending he was picking a question. Rookie looked bored in particular during that segment, but nonetheless looked amused with himself. The press must have quickly caught on as soon as Rookie started packing up after answering a handful of questions, hence the uproar as he left the podium.

Friendly but secretive. Rookie had outsmarted the press.

Damn, he was practically beaming. 

He found himself sitting on the couch in the Leads' snack room, rewatching a segment of the press conference on television. He could see the upward twitches of Rookie's lips as he excused himself, willfully ignoring the uproar that followed behind him. From his side profile, Guy can see it: the smugness, the pride, the mischief. Typical Rookie. Always knew how to change the playing field. 

"Whew! I almost didn't think they'd let me off like that." Guy's head snapped to attention as he turned to the doorway, where Rookie was tugging off his earpiece and tie with a deep sigh. The younger man had probably gone to his office to decompress, maybe ride the high of his own adrenaline rush before getting to the snack room. He practically looked radiant from where he stood. Relieved. "I'd consider it a success, though! If not for-"

He quickly stood and crossed the distance between them to pull him close, grabbing both sides of his face as he pulled him into a kiss. His cheeks were warm, probably from the adrenaline rush of being on stage, but they felt nice in his hands as Guy leaned into the kiss. He could feel Rookie relax on him as he snaked his arms around Guy's waist. 

"You-" Guy pulled away just to catch a quick breath and speak, "Were so brilliant up there."

"I know! Wasn't that cool?" Rookie grinned ridiculously widely, his eyes glowing with energy that reminded him of what he was like before Blackout. "I can't believe I pulled it off - they're so gonna hate me, by the way - but at least I did it! It's done!"

"I'm so proud of you, Rook." Guy pulled him close to press a kiss on his cheek, rubbing the pad of his thumb over his other cheek. He couldn't help but grin as well. His partner was brilliant. Witty and mischievous. There was no one else like him. "You make me so proud."

"Paige is bringing over pizza, by the way," Rogue cut in, suddenly reminding him that she was still, after all, in the room. He turned his head to look at her as she read over her phone, most likely looking at the text Paige sent to her. There was no sign of awkwardness or discomfort on her face as she continued, "She said we should celebrate."

"Yay!" He turned his attention back to Rookie, who seemingly exploded with happiness as he bounced on his feet. "Can you fly out to get donuts, please? Or maybe cake! It's a celebration, right?"

"I'll get you a cake when we get home." Guy grinned as he pressed one more kiss on Rookie's forehead before stepping away from him, turning to the couch where he left his jet pack. Now was the time to finally use it. He took it by the straps and shouldered it on, "For now, donuts."

Rookie beamed from where he stood as Guy walked past him, making his way out of the snack room as he thought of where he wanted to go. He turned out of the door and listened as Rookie and Rogue started a conversation about earlier, Rogue's calm praise responded with Rookie's cheerful gratitude.

Grinning to himself, he figured this was a good day, and not one he nor Rookie were supposed to worry about after all. 

**Author's Note:**

> Rookie has a good agent brain cell. You guys are just mean. 
> 
> Guy is whipped for our boy, I can't blame him. 
> 
> No journalists were harmed in the making of this fic. I miss being on the field :(
> 
> Kindly leave your kudos and comments on your way out. Thank you for reading!


End file.
